


No Rest For The Wicked

by NoRestForTheWickedFic



Category: Original Work
Genre: Backstory, Bisexual Character, Chicago (City), Detectives, Drama, F/F, F/M, Gay, Investigations, M/M, Murder Mystery, NRFTW, No Rest For The Wicked - Freeform, NoRestForTheWickedfic, Occasional updates, Original Fiction, Revenge, Unreliable Narrator, draft 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-08-01 05:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16278782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoRestForTheWickedFic/pseuds/NoRestForTheWickedFic
Summary: All Owen Morris wants to do is live his life. But the universe isn’t having that. His sister arrives at his doorstep after months on the road, a serial killer is on the loose who he has to catch, and a woman from his past forces her way back into his life. And it all happens within the span of a week. If being a detective wasn’t hard enough for Owen, it just became a whole hell of a lot worse.





	No Rest For The Wicked

**Author's Note:**

> "No Rest For The Wicked" has been a passion project of mine for the last few months and as I've been working on it by myself, I thought I'd post it here to get some feedback. So feel free, really, I want to know what I can fix.
> 
> Happy reading!

Sunday, July 12th, 1998

      A woman sat by her window, eyes scanning the dark street ahead for someone familiar. A white car pulled to a stop near the driveway and the driver zipped up a jacket as he exited the vehicle. A little girl, the woman’s daughter, tugged at her mother’s sleeve and whined, “When’s Auntie Stella coming?”

     The woman shook the child off her sleeve and replied, “I told you, Aunt Stella’s not coming.” The man with the jacket walked up the sidewalk to the house and stepped up onto the porch. The little girl stuck out her tongue and stomped off. She didn’t turn around when the doorbell rang and her mother answered the door. At the door was a man in late middle age, balding with a thick mustache. His face lit up when he saw the woman and he reached out a hand to shake. She accepted his hand and smiled, leading him inside. “So,” the woman asked her guest, “I’ve heard you’re out on probation now. Is that right?”

     The man nodded, making an irritated expression. “Yeah, but I coulda just gone to AA or something’, if it hadn’t been for that damn kid.”

     The woman tried her best not to roll her eyes and kept a sweet smile, “Adrian was doing you a favor. He made sure you got clean.”

     “Delilah, that boy sent me to the clink for 3 years. All that time… gone down the toilet,” the man grumbled.

     “I’m sorry it had to be you, but Adrian’s grown up now and he’s doing real police work. He works in forensics for the city,” Delilah said. The man scratched his head and glared at the corner of the room.

     Meanwhile, Delilah’s daughter tiptoed down the stairs and peeked around the corner for a look at the mysterious guest. He was looking around the room, squinting. “Say, Delilah, where’s that husband of yours?”

     “Oh, Ben’s at work,” Delilah checked her watch, “He’ll be back in a few minutes, actually.”

     “Good,” the man nodded, “I’ve been looking forward to meeting him.”

     Delilah spotted her daughter hiding by the foot of the stairs and stood up. “I gotta put Grace to bed. I’ll be back in a bit.” The man nodded, took a toothpick out his pocket and put it in his mouth.

     Outside, it began raining and droplets slapped the window in rhythm with the wind. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang and through the window, the man spotted Delilah’s husband Ben outside, under an umbrella holding a briefcase. The man opened the door and greeted Ben. Ben shook his hand as he entered and said, “You must be Aunt Stella’s... friend. I’m Ben, Delilah’s husband.” Ben dropped his umbrella by the door and shed his raincoat.

     “She told me,” the man replied, “And before ya ask, yes, I’m the one that got arrested by that kid a couple years back.”

     “You know, since you’ve been gone, Adrian’s gone to work in forensics in the city, solving crimes and the like,” Ben explained.

     The man sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Your wife told me,” he replied.

     Ben smiled and made his way to the kitchen. He started rummaging through the fridge and turned back to the man to say, “If you’re hungry, you can have something from the fridge. ‘Lilah didn’t cook tonight, ‘cause she had a work event, but you’re welcome to have leftovers.” When he got no response, Ben returned to his fridge crusade. While Ben’s back was turned, the man stood up and walked over to the countertop. He reached into his jacket pocket and put on his pair of leather gloves. He took a knife from the wooden block and examined it, turning it over in his hand.

     Ben turned, saying, “We’ve got chili in here.” And he was met with a knife to the throat. He collapsed into the fridge, causing the whole to tilt and slam back down on the linoleum. He struggled to his knees and swiped at the man’s knife hand. The man jammed the blade into Ben’s shoulder and back, until he lay face first in a pool of his own blood. The man’s gloves were stained scarlet.

     Delilah had heard the clattering of the fridge and was running down the stairs. “Ben! Is everything alright down there? I heard something fall and-” Delilah stopped when her eyes fell upon her husband’s bloodied body. She staggered towards him and fell to her knees, consumed by sobbing. They had had such a short time together. They had a daughter. She grasped his cut and blood-covered hand and prayed. This couldn’t be happening. Behind her, a footstep sounded, dull and heavy. She jumped and looked over her shoulder, her whole body shaking with fear. The man was standing over her, his front covered in Ben’s blood, a knife dripping red in his left hand. Holding her dying husband close to her chest, Delilah looked at the man and asked, “Why did you do this?! How could you do this to him?”

     The man lent down and put a gloved finger to her lips. “This isn’t about him,” the man replied. Then, without a second’s hesitation, he raised his arm and struck her down. He dropped the knife at Delilah’s feet and made his way to the stairs.

     Upstairs, Grace had heard the commotion and was hiding in her closet. She could hear heavy footsteps pounding on the staircases. Those couldn’t her mom’s or dad’s, so she fumbled with the doorknob and held fast to it. The Devil wasn’t getting her that easily. If he did, she wasn’t going to go down without a fight. The man opened the door to her room and stood still for a moment. Grace held her breath, hoping that if she didn’t move or make any noise, he would forget she was there. He opened up the door to the adjoining bathroom and slammed it shut after a minute. Grace could feel herself starting to get light-headed, so she took a tiny breath and froze. The man turned around and put his hand on the closet door knob. Grace held it tight and turned it back every time the man tried to open the door.

     The doorknob stopped turning and Grace loosened her grip slightly, to take a breath. In that second, the door burst open, dragging Grace out of the closet onto the bedroom floor. The man grabbed her wrist and started dragging her downstairs. Grace thrashed and scratched at his arm with her free hand. She looked up. She hadn’t expected the devil to be so bald and gross-looking. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Grace spotted the bloody knife and along with it, her parents lying in a pile.

     That’s where she was going if she didn’t do anything about this, to H-E-double hockey sticks. She looked up at the man and her life flashed before her eyes. Her earliest memory was when she was in kindergarten. Her parents, it turned out, weren’t her real parents. She was adopted. At the time, she didn’t really understand what that meant. She couldn’t imagine having a whole different set of parents, ones she didn’t even know. She used to think they must have dropped her off on her parents’ doorstep in basket with note like Harry Potter when he was a baby. Grace hoped she lived, just so she could figure what happened to Harry in the next book. By then, she had decided she was going to live and then, she bit the man’s hand so hard, he hissed and let her go. Grace dropped to the floor and scrambled towards the front door.

     Strangely, the man didn’t follow her and instead stayed standing besides her parents and an ever-growing pool of blood surrounding them. Grace slammed the door behind her and ran across the street to the neighbor’s house. She rapped on the door and shouted, “Miss Marley!!! It’s me, Grace! I need help! Miss Marley!!” Miss Marley answered the door and quickly pulled her inside. Grace dashed across the house and fumbled the house phone. If the police were quick, they could catch the devil that had killed her mother and father. If they were quick, the pair of them could be avenged. That way, Delilah and Ben could be, at the very least, peaceful in death.


End file.
